


Smells Like Home

by aquatarius



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquatarius/pseuds/aquatarius
Summary: Alt Ending - Spades Slick and Karkat reunite.





	Smells Like Home

You get to the top of the building before anyone else, bar Terezi and the Striders, and only because they were there in the first place. You see three of the carapaces on the top of the roof, one of which is Jack Noir, Spades Slick, from your session.  He’s got these odd metal bits on him which you don’t remember from when he was in your session, but it is  _ certainly _ him. Cyborg Jack Noir, Cyborg Spades slick. 

 

There’s only one problem. His fucking head is missing, stranded several feet away with a trail of blood to connect it to its body. You gape at it, unable to process exactly what’s going on. Then you see red. Your stomach twists, curling up like it’s going to revolt. Common sense goes right out the window, followed closely by the fact that he was more or less against you a while ago. (Although, there were extenuating circumstances, and he wasn’t really against  _ you _ .)

 

“Slick!” You squawk, scurrying over to him. Someone grabs at your shoulder, saying some warning that goes over your head, but you jerk away from their hand and drop down next to Slick’s head. With a snarl, you turn to look at the others and say, “Get Jane!”

 

Listening to your fucking exemplary leaderness, someone does actually get her. It takes a while for her to get there, and you sit there, shaking and holding his head. You’re  _ not _ crying, of course. The wetness on your face is sweat or blood or something gross, but it isn’t tears. 

 

“Karkat, Jane’s here. What are you-”

 

You hold up his head, hold it out to her and grit your teeth. 

 

“Heal him.” You demand. She winces and then frowns. “Heal him!” You scream before she can protest. Your voice cracks, and then you sniffle, like a pathetic baby who poops in his pants.  

 

They oblige you, though, finally. You set his head against his body and hold it there while Jane sets her hands on his body and heals him. Teal surrounds his body, wrapping him up, then dispeling with a bang like a shotgun next to your ear.

 

Slick sits up, sucking in a lungful of air. Blood still dribbles down his chest, but he’s alive, he’s healed, and he’s  _ ther _ e. Before he can even speak, you fling yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him. His metal is cool against your hands. 

 

“Kid?” he says, sounding confused as hell. Then he sees the Striders, and stiffens in your grasp. 

 

“Slick,” You say, and he sets a hand on your shoulder. He pulls you away and squints at you with his cyborg eye, which doesn’t look like a cyborg eye, but more like an eye with a shoddy red plastic piece over it. 

 

“Kid.” He repeats. He says it slowly, rolling it over in his mouth like a piece of candy. Then recognition flashes across his face and he inhales sharply. He kinda jerks, like he’s startled by the fact that you’re sitting in front of him. Your knees go weak in relief as he grins, and you’re so glad you’re sitting down. It would be so fucking embarrassing if you just collapsed. 

 

You sob when he pulls you into a bone crushing hug, which is a little smaller feeling then it was one and a half sweeps ago. But, you’ve grown, and he hasn’t. Unless you count the, uh. Robot parts. 

 

“Karkat, what the  _ fuck _ , kid, where’ve you been?” He demands.

 

“What happened to you?” You babble.

 

Between the two of you jabbering your heads off like a pair of damned gossips squealing over the newest Troll Boy Band, neither of you can actually understand what the other is saying, so you finally manage to shut yourself the fuck up so you can hear him talking. 

 

You catch him saying something about ‘his boys’, which seem to a be a group of his quads, if anything is to be told by how fondly he’s talking of them. He says some other nonsense that doesn’t make any less sense than  _ your _ adventures, something about an orange creature giving him his cyborg parts and other carapaces and blah, blah blah. You’re so glad to have him back you can hardly do anything but hang on to him and sniffle. 

 

By the time he’s wound down, though, so have your tears. You don’t bother with your story. It doesn’t  _ matter _ . What matters is that Slick is back. 

 

“Stop your god damned blubbering.” He says, patting your shoulder. 

 

“I’m  _ not _ .” You snap. 

 

“You’re gonna stain your fucking sweater, you dumbass baby.” He says, flicking a droplet off your chin with his hand. If it weren’t for the Mayor, you would’ve forgotten how hard his exoskeleton is. 

 

“I’m not fucking crying, you shit faced meteor goblin!” You say, and then sniffle loudly to prove it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re being such a  _ wriggler _ about this. You wipe your eyes with your sleeve, staining it as he warned you would, and he rolls his eyes. 

 

“I  _ told _ you, kid.” He says, pulling you into another hug. He squeezes so tight that you can’t breathe. Everything in you that’s troll warns you that he’s going to kill you, but everything in you that’s  _ Karkat _ knows he won’t. 

  
 You press your face into his shoulder and sob into it. Slick rocks slightly, the movement horrible awkward, but at the same time, very comforting. He smells like grease, like blood, like cigarettes, and like metal. But most of all, Slick smells like home. 

**Author's Note:**

> A commissioned work for a sale I have going on right now. And a pleasure to write!


End file.
